


Hecate's Realm

by Fowlbynamedorkbynature



Series: The Gods' Playgrounds [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Crossover, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:25:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 21,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8640505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fowlbynamedorkbynature/pseuds/Fowlbynamedorkbynature
Summary: Frank and Hazel are sent to Hogwarts on a quest from Hecate to protect Harry from Sirius Black during his third year. Post BOO, pre TOA. Part 2 of The Gods' Playground Series (It's not necessary to read Part 1 to still understand or enjoy the series. Things from Part 1 will be explained in later chapters)





	1. Prologue

**Okay, so this is happening along with my other story, Hecate's Kingdom. I'm just going to say now that I don't own Harry Potter of Percy Jackson.**

* * *

Frank and Hazel were in Camp Half-Blood's arena. "Maybe some fighting will help us unwind after the trip," Frank had suggested back at Camp Jupiter. They were just about to begin a tie-breaker match when a first year camper ran up to them.

"Can we help you with something?" Frank asked, noticing the out of breath boy.

"Chiron needs you two in the Big House," he wheezed. Hazel shrugged and held her arm out. Frank took it and began walking to see Chiron.

They were just about to walk in the door when they noticed a bright flash of purple light from the other side of the door. Hazel recognized the light and put her hand on Frank's arm. She opened the door and smiled as her suspicions were proven to be correct. "Lady Hecate," she said as she bowed to the goddess. Frank followed suit. "What brings you to Camp?" She asked.

"Please, come in." The two demigods obliged. "I have a quest for you two."

"Doing what?" Frank asked.

"It's a bit of a long story. You see, centuries ago, there were 4 children of mine, back when the Gods were in England. Their names were Godric, Helga, Rowena, and Salazar. They decided to create a school, and they believed themselves to be wizards. Now the school is full of my children and their legacies, with a few other demigods studying there." She stopped to see if she had lost them.

Frank was speechless. He knew that demigods in Europe were a little different than the ones in America, but this was crazy. Children of Trivia, sorry, Hecate, thought that they were wizards? Frank came to the conclusion that the "wizards" must be crazy. He looked over at Hazel and wasn't surprised to see her beaming. "Of course she loves this," he thought, "she's a witch." He looked back to the goddess when she started speaking again.

"I'll fill you in on the rest of the quest if you accept." She said. They both nodded. "Excellent." Hecate raised her hand, palm extended towards them, and the two demigods were surrounded by a purple light with the words "Good luck" echoing through their heads.

* * *

Frank had been shaken awake by Hazel. They were in a crowded train station. There were two trunks on a trolley, and there were people everywhere. "Where are we?" Frank asked

* * *

**So that's the prologue. Remember to rate and review.**

**QOTD: What is your Hogwarts house?**

 


	2. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

_Frank had been shaken awake by Hazel. They were in a crowded train station. There were two trunks on a trolley, and there were people everywhere. "Where are we?" Frank asked._

* * *

"Hecate gave me all the information we'd need for the quest, but there's no time to explain everything. Just play along for now." Hazel whispered. Frank grunted as she held out her hand and helped Frank stand up.

"Where are we?" Frank asked as he looked around the train station.

"We're at King's Cross in London. It's the way wizards get the school." Hazel rolled her eyes as she explained with exaggerated patience. . She got behind her trolley and began to push, moving ever so slightly. She stopped near a brick wall in between platforms 9 and 10.

"Okay, first part. I'm gonna run through that brick wall, and you're gonna have to follow me. This probably sounds ridiculous.

"Hazel, are you sure that's safe?" He asked skeptically, obviously doubting her.

Hazel sighed as she studied the great clock embedded into the wall.

"If we don't go right now, we won't be able to complete our quest that we were assigned to. And displeasing a god or goddess, for the matter, has never been a good thing." She took a start at the wall and sprinted forward. Frank was about to protest when she disappeared straight through the wall, leaving no trace of her ever being in the station. He shook his head and prepared himself for impact. Reluctantly, he surged forward.

He found himself surprised when he passed through the wall as if the bricks didn't exist. Hazel was waiting for him with a look of satisfaction on her face. "Welcome to Platform 9 ¾."

"Platform 9 ¾?" Frank said, dumbfounded.

She nodded, her hair blowing in her face. "This is how wizards get to Hogwarts. Come on, let's board the train, I still need to tell you everything."

* * *

They had managed to find an empty compartment to ride in. Frank stared at Hazel, waiting for her to explain.

"Well?" He inquired.

"There are a few things that you need to know right now, and they might come as a bit of a shock," Hazel said. "So, brace yourself."

"I'm ready," Frank responded. Hazel nodded and looked through a burlap pack she carried onto the train. After a few minutes of searching, she handed Frank a compact. He looked very confused as he opened it, but froze when he saw his own reflection. There was no doubt that it was him, but it was him 3 years prior. Before the blessing from his father, Mars. "H-how?" Frank asked as he looked back up at Hazel.

"It's part of the quest. The Mist is making you look like you were a few years ago. Harry Potter is currently 13 as well, and they thought that it would be easier if he, along with everyone else, viewed us as the same."

"You're telling me that I look like a 13 year old brat to them? Jeez. And hold up-we are dealing with THIRTEEN YEAR OLDS?" Frank stared in disbelief.

She smiled and nodded. The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was spent giving Frank up to a second years education in the Wizarding World, discussing their backstories, and enjoying the beautiful scenery. That is, until the train began to become very cold.

"Are we there yet?" Frank asked, abandoning the subject

"We can't be, something must've happened," she responded. Hazel was going to say more, when the train dropped another 20 degrees. A figure in a tattered black cloak passed by the door and peered inside, almost seeming to be looking for something. Once its head turned towards Hazel, the figure continued on its way, floating, to be precise. Her face was pale and still, her fingers digging into her palm.

"Hazel?"


	3. The Arrival

AN: Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. Even if I might not respond to all of them, know that I have read and appreciated every single one.

This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out.

* * *

"We can't be, something must've happened," she responded. Hazel was going to say more, when the train dropped another 20 degrees. A figure in a tattered black cloak passed by the door and peered inside, almost seeming to be looking for something. Once its head turned towards Hazel, the figure continued on its way, floating, to be precise. Her face was pale and still, her fingers digging into her palm.

"Hazel?"

* * *

"Hazel, what were those?" Frank asked, turning his girlfriend away from where the hooded thing just a moment ago, so they were facing each other eye-to-eye.

She finally met Frank's gaze. "W-what? Oh, um, they're called dementors. Thing is, I haven't seen them since Nico brought me back ... which was ages ago." Frank could tell she was uncomfortable and didn't want to speak of the situation any longer, but he needed to know what they did and why it had such an effect on Hazel.

"So those things came from the Fields?"

She nodded. "They take out your soul with their kiss. My father, er, the Greek version of him anyways, created them to help keep people in line down there. Hecate had said that they guard a wizard prison in the middle of some ocean, so I can't imagine why they'd be on this train. And personally, I don't want to know."

* * *

Frank and Hazel were wandering once they got off the train, trying to find someone that could help them before they had found a giant of a man calling for first years. Frank would've taken out his bow and shot the yelling man with perfected accuracy unhesitantly if Hazel hadn't rested her hand on his arm, holding him back. He raised an eyebrow in reply.

"Frank, he's not a monster, Hecate warned me about him. That's Hagrid, a half-giant who works at the school."

"A half-giant." He echoed. "Who is friendly and works for the school. And you're sure that he's harmless?"

"Positive. And apparently, he's the gamekeeper."

He huffed and brought his arms down, but both demigods silently vowed to keep an eye on Hagrid no matter how reassuring Hecate had seemed. The half-giant in question made eye contact with the Romans and smiled as he walked towards them.

"Ah, there y'are. Dumbledore tol' me yer be 'ere. Right this way, then." He led the two to a large group of first years, most of them looking very terrified because of Hagrid. "Now, you're gonna haf'ta cross the lake in these boats along with the rest of the firs' years."

Hazel's eyes widened. "Isn't there some other way to get to Hogwarts?"

"Sorry, i's tradition. Don' worry, everythin's perfectly safe." He gruffed. His eyes twinkled in the night, reflecting the water.

"Safety is not my concern." she muttered.

With a lot of convincing, mostly from Frank, they got on the boat. Hazel was more than reluctant as she had immense fear of the water. She could easily get sick and throw up in a matter of seconds.

The boat was shared with two tiny first years, who were curiously looking into the water. Hazel was holding onto Frank's hand in a deathly grip, extremely tense and nervous for the whole ride. Frank had noticed that she was cutting off her blood circulation, but knew better and decided not to mention it. After all, he was sure that he would prefer a purple hand then no hand at all.

* * *

Soon enough, the two were ushered into the Great Hall behind a large group of first years. Professor McGonagall had told them that they'd need to be sorted into their Houses while they stayed at Hogwarts.

They watched the first years get sorted with mild interest, although they might've cared more if they knew what House they'd be in, so they would know when to feel excited or disappointed. After what seemed like an endless sea of students and a rather odd speech from the Headmaster about why two Americans would be a part of at Hogwarts, it was their turn to get sorted.

"Levesque, Hazel." McGonagall's voice rang through the Great Hall, everybody quiet and curious as to where the Americans would go. She walked up to the Sorting Hat and tried to stay calm as it was placed on her head. It was so big on her, it covered her eyes once the professor had let go of it.

She was up there for less than a minute before the hat declared "Hufflepuff!" and she bounced away nervously. The Hufflepuff house had applauded loudly, which was expected, as they always clapped louder than the other houses, even when a student was sorted into a different house. The hat was taken of by McGonagall, then she smiled as she walked to the welcoming table donned with yellow and black.

"Zhang, Frank." Frank walked up to the stool stony and looked straight ahead as the hat was put on him. When he heard the unfamiliar voice, he would've freaked out if Hazel hadn't warned him about the Sorting Hat on the train ride to Hogwarts.

"Ah, another one. You're the first to come in a pair," the Sorting Hat said as soon as it had sat on his head.

"First what, demigods?" Frank asked getting curious.

"You're smarter than I would've thought." The hat chuckled. Before that moment, Frank didn't know that hats were capable of doing that.

'Hey, I'm plenty smart. Look, can you please just sort me? People are staring and-" he was cut off by the Sorting Hat who chose to speak.

"Gryffindor!" it bellowed, causing quite an applause. He felt a bit relieved that he could get out of the spotlight as he walked over to the table covered in burgundy and gold.

He had almost sat in a different seat when he spotted a familiar face who was observing him incredulously. He made his way down the table and sat himself down next to the boy.

"Seamus?"

"Hello, Praetor."


	4. Hello, Praetor

**AN: I'm trying this new thing where I'm ending off my chapters with more cliffhangers so more people review so I'm motivated to write faster. Or maybe there's a chance you'll read more of my terrible story. Let's see how it turns out. Sorry in advance for the longish AN at the end. You can skip it if you want to.**

**Also, there are going to be some conversations in Latin, you know, because of the whole Roman thing. Anyways, if a character is speaking Latin, their words are gonna be bold.**

**This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!**

* * *

_"Seamus?"_

_"Hello, Praetor."_

* * *

"Seamus, what are you doing here?"

" **I'd love to answer you, but would you mind if we talked like this? There are some people here that I wouldn't want to reveal the gods to."**

Frank nodded and started speaking in Latin like Seamus had. " **What are you doing here?"**

" **You knew I went to a magical school outside of New Rome."**

" **I didn't think you meant here! How long have you known about this place?"**

" **A little before I came to camp. My mum's a wizard, so I've been prepared for a while. What are you and Hazel doing here?"**

Frank looked over at Hazel who was sitting with the other Hufflepuffs. She was deep in conversation with a witch who was closer to her true age. " **We've been sent on a quest by Hecate."**

" **You've been sent on a quest to Hogwarts? Why?"**

" **She said we had to protect someone. Henry, Harvey, something like that."**

Seamus' eyes widened a bit in recognition as he leaned in and whispered. " **You don't happen to be protecting Harry Potter, do you?"**

Frank nodded. " **Yeah, do you know him?"** Seamus could barely contain his laughter. " **What's so funny?"**

" **Harry's been in danger since he was a baby. You have no idea what you've signed up for, do you?"**

" **I thought I did,"** he said eyeing Seamus. " **Hazel informed me of as much as she could on the train ride here. Can you tell me more about the boy I'm trying to protect?"**

" **Yeah,"** he said. " **There's a safe place we can go, meet up with the others. I can tell you more after dinner."**

" **Others? You mean there are other demigods at Hogwarts?"**

Seamus chuckled again. " **I wish. Listen, I'd love to keep talking to you, but we've got to stop soon."**

" **Why?"**

" **You see that girl a little ways down the table with the big hair?"** Frank casually glanced where Seamus was directing him. Just as described, there was a girl who was obviously trying to hear their conversation and was doing a poor job of hiding it. She had bushy brown hair, with a haughty expression, although it seemed she was more curious for information than anything. Surely she couldn't be a major harm, but she could pass on information to the others. " **Her name's Hermione. Hermione Granger. She's too nosy for her own good, which I guess isn't her fault, and might've found out about the gods had she not been distracted with keeping Potter alive. And believe me, that's nearly a full time job. Don't ask."**

" **I see,"** Frank said returning his gaze to the demigod. When Seamus said not to ask, he understood it was surely better to not ask. " **So,"** he said. ' **What now?"**

" **Now, we talk in English about things that don't really matter until the feast is over, because people are staring."** He paused before starting again. " **One more thing, be careful."**

" **About something specific or just in general?"** He blinked. Hazel had definitely not warned him about this.

" **Well, gods know that we always need to be careful, but you need to watch out about the Mist. Marks and scars and such, you need to be aware, A Ravenclaw found a way to cover my SPQR tattoo, but the whole age thing won't be such an easy cover up."** His voice was low enough so anyone but Frank and himself could hear, just to be careful.

"Duly noted." Frank had stopped speaking in Latin so anybody that might've been listening in, including the bushy-haired Hermione, wouldn't have any more reason to be suspicious than the conversation that had just occurred.

* * *

Frank examined the castle studiously, exploring every nook and cranny while Seamus navigated through the moving staircases and long, narrow corridors with ease. "So, where is this safe place, exactly?" He asked, gazing at the paintings.

"You know about the Four Founders, right?" When Frank nodded, he continued.

"Well, there's a story at Hogwarts that each of them made a secret contribution to the school that the other three didn't know about. Slytherin made the Chamber of Secrets, I'll tell you about that later, and rumor has it that Hufflepuff made this room that the student and teachers call the Room of Requirement." He took a breath.

"It's kind of like a million rooms into one, creating whatever you could possibly imagine. We mostly go there for training. In case you ever need to find it, it's on the seventh floor, across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy." Seamus abruptly stopped once they had arrived at the before mentioned tapestry. He walked in front of the blank wall three times before a simple looking wooden door appeared as if it was there the entire time.

"This is the safe room?" Seamus nodded and led Frank inside. He followed obediently.

Upon later reflection, Frank wouldn't hesitate to compare this room to the common area on the Argo II. Both felt home like and comfy, a place you could go to to just relax after a long day of fighting monsters, saving the world, getting showered in blood, slicing heads open, the usual demigod's duties. But unlike the Argo II, this room had huge lumpy, cozy looking armchairs, perfect for sinking into and enjoying an evening nap. The room was decorated with the Four House colors: red, yellow, blue, green.

"So, you said there were others?" Frank asked as he examined the room.

"Sorry Praetor." He shrugged unapologetically. "But I'm not going to tell you until Hazel's here, and the other two join us. It'll make things easier overall."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Seamus, just Frank is fine!" Almost as if on cue, the door opened.

A girl with hair so blonde it was almost white came in, platinum some would say, brought Hazel along with her. The door was closed by a boy with similar hair, but that was where the similarities ended. Where the girl's face was soft and her eyes were curious with a lazy, dreamy gaze, the boy had more defined features, with sharp, angular cheekbones and pale skin like fresh fallen snow even though he was only 13.

"Luna. Draco." Seamus gave a small nod to the both of them when he said their name "I'm glad you could make it."


	5. The Others

**AN: Alright, so I've started this fic on ff.net, and since there are more chapters on there, I thought I should update them here. This chapter and the next one will be posted today, and then there will be a short hiatus while I read Prisoner of Azkaban to make sure things are accurate. Hopefully 3 chapters in a few days will serve as an early apology, i guess? There's no good way to phrase that**

**This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!**

* * *

_"Luna. Draco." Seamus gave a small nod to the both of them when he said their name "I'm glad you could make it."_

* * *

"Glad to be here as usual," the girl, Luna, said with a dreamy look.

"So these are the others?" Frank asked curiously. He glanced over at Seamus to see him give an approving nod before speaking again.

"Praetor, I'd like you to meet Luna Lovegood, a second year Ravenclaw, and Draco Malfoy, a third year Slytherin."

"If they're not demigods, then how did they end up learning about our world?" Frank inquired.

Luna was more than happy to explain this to someone, especially since most people brushed her off whenever she talked about anything that wasn't well known by the wizarding world. She was often looked past and called strange, though she by this time, should be used to it by now. "I'm a clear sighted mortal, one of the few at Hogwarts." Frank nodded in understanding. Hazel smiled at Luna's excitement, having heard her explanation on the walk to the Room of Requirement.

"And you?" Frank turned to Draco.

He cleared his throat. "For generations, the Malfoys have been blessed by the god Pluto." Hazel's eyes widened, surprised that her father had said nothing of Hogwarts, not even mention it. "Being pureblood was a good cover for having all the riches, and we're undoubtedly descendants of death, or at least have related ancestry somehow, so it really isn't that hard to piece together." He paused to look at Hazel's awed and startled expression."What?" Draco inquired when he saw her taken-aback face.

"You're blessed by Pluto?"

"Isn't that what I just said?" He blinked, slightly irritated.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me about this." A huge smile grew on Hazel's face.

Draco looked to Frank. "What am I missing?"

"She's a daughter of Pluto," he chuckled. "Seems like you have some things to discuss."

He gained a similar, confused look. "But I thought he didn't have a child after some girl in the 20's."

"You're correct, that's Haze..."

"You're her?" Hazel nodded and beamed as they walked down to a corner of the room with Draco to talk about only gods knows what.

"How much do you want to bet they're gonna be joined at the hip for a while?"

"I learned a while ago to never bet on anything when Draco Malfoy was concerned, Praetor." Frank gave a warning look. "Sorry, Frank. Old habits die hard, especially with the other members of my cohort who are more into tradition."

He nodded, knowing that the transition back to just Frank would take some time. "So, will you tell me more about him?"

Seamus looked confused for a moment until he remembered their conversation in the Great Hall that Hermione was listening in on. He looked over to Draco and when he was convinced that the Slytherin was giving Hazel all his attention, he took Frank to the opposite side of the room. "Yeah, what do you wanna know?"

"Everything I need to so we don't fail this quest," he prompted.

He nodded and took a deep breath. "About 13 years ago, there was this dark wizard, darker than some of the titans. We call him You-Know-Who, and at the height of his reign, attacked the boy you're trying to protect." He told Frank about how Voldemort tried to murder Harry, how the curse rebounded and gave him his famous lightning scar. He told him about Harry's first year at Hogwarts, how he became the youngest seeker, how he almost got killed by a mountain troll, how he burned Professor Quirrell's face off. He retold the events of his second year, the students (among others such as Mrs. Norris and Nearly Headless Nick) getting petrified by the basilisk under the castle, the Chamber of Secrets opening, even Professor Lockhart idiocy resulting in his memory loss and his most likely permanent stay at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

"And I thought our lives were crazy," he chuckled. "Are you sure he's not a demigod too?"

"Positive. The Potters are a strong and old wizarding family, and his mum was a muggleborn. There's no way he's a demigod, Roman or Greek."

He nodded and smiled. "We never get the easy jobs, do we?"

Seamus smiled. "All this talk about the last two years nearly made me forget, there's one more thing I need to show you." He took Frank to a dark brown wooden door similar to the one that had led them to the common area they were using. Beyond it was a room obviously made for training. It was lined with dummies and all kinds of different weapons, and Frank smiled when he realized why it looked so familiar.

"One of the training areas from Camp Jupiter."

"That's right. I needed a familiar place to train without getting weird looks from the mortals here."

"It's amazing Seamus."

"Glad you like it, Praetor." He shrugged and walked back into the common area when Frank softly glared at him. When they walked in, they heard Hazel yawn.

"Tired?" Draco asked.

She nodded. "It's been a long day, with the train and I don't know about Frank, but I've got a serious case of jetlag." She looked over at her boyfriend who nodded, saying that he was tired too, even if he was a bit better at hiding it.

Luna smiled as she grabbed Hazel's arm and dragged her near the kitchens towards the Hufflepuff common rooms. Seamus chuckled as he took Frank back to Gryffindor Tower. "Good luck."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

 


	6. New Homes

**AN: As always, when a character is speaking Latin, its translation will be in bold. This of course excludes Tower passwords or spells used by the characters.**

**This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!**

* * *

_Seamus chuckled as he took Frank back to Gryffindor Tower. "Good luck."_

" _Why?"_

" _You'll see."_

* * *

Seamus stopped in front of a painting of a woman and said clearly, "Fortuna Major." The portrait swung open to reveal a short hallway which led to a room that wasn't unlike the common room that had been in the Room of Requirement. Although, this one only donned the colors burgundy and gold. Because their impromptu meeting had taken so long, there wasn't anyone else in the Gryffindor common room, except for one Hermione Granger. She was facing the now dying fire re-reading "Hogwarts: A History" for what must've been the millionth time, or at least what felt like it. She was too deeply invested to hear that Seamus and Frank had come in.

" **Think we'll be able to sneak past her?"** Frank whispered cautiously.

" **We're never that lucky, but then again, neither is the Golden Trio."** It was obvious and clear that Frank was perplexed, but Seamus put his hand up. Assured that his questions would be answered once they were away from Hermione, he kept calm and tranquil. The Romans snuck by the the boys staircase and were fortunate enough to not step on creaky floorboards or anything that would alert the nosy girl of their presence. Frank let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding once they had gotten to a room with 6 four poster beds, while only four of them looked used.

" **Will I be sleeping here?** " Frank inquired. Seamus nodded and sat down on one of the unused beds. Frank suspected they were sitting on Seamus' bed, as there were undeniable scorch marks on the posts, just like the ones that could be found whenever him or the rest of his siblings were concerned.

The two demigods talked throughout the night and early morning, only getting a couple hours of rest before the sun came up. " **Why do we have to get up so early?** " Frank groaned complainingly.

Seamus yawned nonchalantly and ran a hand through his hair. " **Do you want to answer their questions when they see all the battle scars?** " Frank begrudgingly got up to start the day.

* * *

 _Luna smiled as she grabbed Hazel's arm and dragged her near the kitchens towards the Hufflepuff common rooms._ *

* * *

"Thank you for showing me around the castle, Luna." Hazel had allowed herself to be dragged around by the Ravenclaw, even though Hecate had given her a layout of the school previously. Then again, she wasn't about to correct one of the first people she had become friends with, even if it would've saved both girls some time.

"It's no trouble, really. Besides, it's nice to be able to visit this part of the castle when I can remember it."

"When you can remember it?"

"Oh yes. I sleepwalk, that's why I wear my shoes to bed, and besides, who doesn't enjoy a good adventure now and then." She watched the blonde ramble. Luna reminded her some of her classmates back when she went to school with Sammy. Even though she went on about random facts about herself and the castle, she found she didn't mind as much as she did when her classmates would talk endlessly about trivial matters of her time: assignments due, cute classmates, if they could go do gods knows what.

She had been tuning out whatever Luna was talking about and started paying attention when the Ravenclaw had taken her to the kitchen corridor and stopped. Hazel wondered if she knew the password, or lack thereof, technically speaking. " … and that should be everything you need to know."

"Thank you for showing me around the castle. I don't know what I would've done without you," she lied easily.

"It was no setback. Well goodnight Hazel, and be sure to mind the wrackspurts."

"The- … goodnight Luna." She was already beginning to learn that it was best to not question what Luna said. She watched her go before entering the common room. She was lucky enough to slip through the empty canary yellow and raven black Hufflepuff common room and into her shared room. She fell asleep as soon as her head came in contact with her pillow. She was dressed in her full uniform (shoes, tie, everything), and her roommates would be surprised to say the least when they saw the foreign exchange student from the night before in their room the following morning.

* * *

***Alright, so for most of this story, it's been from Frank's POV, which has been fine, but I figured that Hazel and my fellow Hufflepuffs deserved a chance. So any time that there is a passage in italics from a previous chapter, chances are the POV is changing. I feel like the name of the current narrator doesn't need to be announced each time it happens, but I thought I might as well address it seeing as it's the first time I'm trying this out. When there are shifts in future chapters, there won't be a long AN to accompany them like this one did.**

**Hope everyone is having a decent 2017 so far :)**


	7. Tea Leaves and Absurdities

**AN: This hiatus will be a lot shorter than I originally anticipated, turns out Prisoner of Azkaban is available as a free PDF online, so there will be some direct parts from the book in this story. Also, I’m finally caught up on all my writing accounts.**

* * *

 

_ Seamus yawned and ran a hand through his hair. “ _ **_Do you want to answer their questions when they see all the battle scars?_ ** _ ” Frank begrudgingly got up to start the day. _

* * *

 

Seamus and Frank had managed to escape any questions, something the older demigod was thankful for. Anytime a mortal saw his skin, ninety percent of the time they showed him pity, disgust, or something along those lines. He was thankful that the son of Vulcan had let him have this moment of peace, something he guessed he’d be needed many more of as the quest wore on.

They managed to get to the Great Hall and taken their seats when Hazel had walked in. She made eye contact with Frank and barely nodded. After years of fighting together, they, among most of the other Romans, had developed a code of sorts that didn’t require anything verbal. A single nod meant to see if Frank was okay. Either that, or she wanted him transform, though he doubted that was the case. She looked satisfied when he nodded back, saying that he was, well, as okay as he could be in this new world.

Later on, Frank noticed that Harry and Hermione came in and sat relatively close, along with a red headed boy that had been accompanying the two the night before. They had all gotten their schedules, and with a little help, he managed to read that their first class of the day was Transfiguration with a Sybill Trelawney. They finished their food and excused themselves to start the long walk to the Divination Tower.

* * *

 

When Frank climbed through the trapdoor, he looked around as his heightened sense of smell was bombarded by a sickly sweet kind of perfume. He tried to cover his nose with his sleeve to filter the smell, but he was disappointed to see that nothing he did helped any. Harry and the ginger boy came up the ladder right before he assumed class would begin.

“Where is she?” The redhead asked.

A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice. 

"Welcome," it said. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last." 

The source of the sound stepped into the light. He saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings. 

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. 

"Welcome to Divination," said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye." 

Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field…" Frank looked towards Seamus to see that he was just as surprised as most of the other students. If books were useless in this course of study, how was one going to study to perform well on the test? Frank was also rather surprised that he even cared about grades when he technically didn’t even belong in this strange world.

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearances, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift 82 granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?" 

"I think so," said Neville tremulously. 

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Neville gulped. Professor Trelawney continued placidly. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she shot suddenly at an Indian girl, "beware a red-haired man." 

The girl gave a startled look at the ginger haired boy, who was perched right behind her and edged her chair away from him. 

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball -- if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our numbers will leave us forever." 

A very tense, awkward silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney either seemed unaware of it or had decided to ignore and dismiss it all together. 

"I wonder, dear," she instructed a small, petite Gryffindor girl, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?" 

The girl, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney. Her hands were quivering and shaking, for whatever reason Frank was not aware. Did she believe this insane woman? To Frank, she seemed like a fraud-- she might as well been winging all the dramatic effects of her voice and unnecessary emphasis on everything right on spot.  

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading -- it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October." 

She trembled, scared of her future but curious of the future.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the 83 last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of  _ Unfogging the Future. _ I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear" -- she caught Neville by the arm as he made an effort to stand up -- "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink." 

Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there were tinkling and a delicate crash of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, "One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind... thank you. ... ". 

Frank sighed before drinking his scalding tea. It tasted as bad as it smelled, but drank it anyway, eager to get this whole class over with. 

Frank didn’t mean to be the slightest bit disrespectful, but he definitely did not take this professor seriously. Oracles, or people with the Inner Eye as she said-- were supposed to be serious and tell the prophecies of great heroes and their quests, not be looking through teacups and fake crystalline balls! And if books could not help, if the information was not recorded, if nothing was written or absolutely accurate, why, what was the point of the class if nothing was straight to the point itself? 

"Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!" Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom and musty, fragrant mist of the room. Frank couldn’t help but wonder what Hazel would think of Professor Trelawney, he would make sure to ask her about it once she attended the class. He was pulled out of his thoughts when the professor made her way over to the Potter boy’s table and started making a rather dramatic scene. 

"My dear," Professor Trelawney opened already dramatically large, looming eyes, "You have the Grim!" 

"The what?" said Harry. Frank saw Seamus’ hands fly to his mouth in horror, but he didn’t have time to question him about it.  What the hell was a Grim?

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. Her eyes were filled with pity and it was obvious that she believed exactly what she thought, and thought it was important enough to declare to the class. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen -- the worst omen -- of death!"

The class was silent, but all heads were turned to one green-eyed, jet-black haired boy with a face of utter confusion.

* * *

 

**Okay, so I don’t know if this constitutes as a cliffhanger, but this chapter is getting far too long for me to continue. If you want them to be longer than 1,000 words roughly, let me know, and I’ll try my best.**

**  
  
**


	8. Transfiguration

**AN: I'm just gonna apologize in advance. You know the characters like Parvati, Lavender, and Neville, but Frank doesn't. So I'm trying to erase their names from when I copy passages out, and if any manage to slip through, then sorry.**

**This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!**

* * *

_"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. Her eyes were filled with pity and it was obvious that she believed exactly what she thought, and thought it was important enough to declare to the class. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen - the worst omen - of death!"_

_The class was silent, but all heads were turned to one green-eyed, jet-black haired boy with a face of utter confusion._

* * *

Everyone was looking at Harry in blank awe, everyone except Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.

"I don't think it looks like a Grim," she said flatly.

Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

Seamus tilted his head to the side in curiosity. Not one teacher has ever downed on the infamous Hermione Granger- she must've been the best student ever in decades.

"It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, with his eyes almost shut, "but it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, leaning to the left.

"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" exclaimed an exasperated Harry, taking even himself by surprise. Now nobody seemed to want to look at him out of obvious reason. If one was told that they would die, and a group of people decides to talk of the matter, Seamus didn't think he would enjoy it very much either.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," murmured Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. "Yes... please pack away your things..."

Silently, the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags.

"Until we meet again," said Professor Trelawney faintly, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear" - she pointed at the boy who had broken the teacup from earlier - "you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra-hard to catch up."

" **Are all the classes like this?** " Frank asked as they left Trelawney's class.

Seamus shrugged. " **More or less. Harry getting the Grim was strange though.** "

Frank rolled his eyes. " **You don't actually believe her, do you?"**

* * *

Frank was feeling a bit better as he managed to escape from the now dreaded Professor Trelawney and into Professor McGonagall's classroom. He and Seamus sat next to each other in the back of the classroom, coincidently a table over from Potter. Once class started, he zoned out again. He hardly heard what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), because, well, after being the equivalent one one for several years, the shock factor wore off somewhat. And besides, he wasn't limited to one animal like wizards were, so he let his mind wander. He wasn't even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class."

Everybody's heads turned toward Harry again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised a shaking hand inadequately.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and -"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning in distaste. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

Everyone stared at her in disbelief.

"Me," spoke Potter, finally.

"I see," Professor McGonagall fixed Harry with her beady strict eyes. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues -"

Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney -"

She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

Hermione gave a weak laugh, but not ungenuine. It looked as if Harry felt a bit better, as even he had an impish grin on his face that he couldn't repress. Not everyone was convinced, however. The ginger whose name he still couldn't remember still looked worried, and the Gryffindor girl whispered, "But what about Neville's cup?"

* * *

When the Transfiguration class had finished, Frank and Seamus joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch, making sure to stay close to the Golden Trio, as Seamus had called them his first night here. When he sat down at the Gryffindor table a couple seats away, he listened to their conversation to see if he could learn anything else.

"Ron, cheer up," said Hermione, pushing a dish of stew toward him. So his name was Ron, that was good to know. He'd finally be able to stop calling him things like 'the ginger'. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said." Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start.

"Harry," he said, in a low, serious voice, "You haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"Yeah, I have," said Harry. "I saw one the night I left the Dursleys'."

Ron let his fork fall with a clatter. His jaw was agape, and for a moment Frank feared that if he was surprised any more, he would fall and collapse onto the floor a throw an anxiety-prone fit.

"Probably a stray," said Hermione calmly.

Ron gazed at Hermione as though she had gone mad.

"Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's - that's bad," he said. "My - my uncle Bilius saw one and - and he died twenty-four hours later!"

"Coincidence," declared Hermione airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice. She was so unconcerned she didn't even feel the need to look up from the glass.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron, starting to get angry, had turned a quite impressive shade of crimson red. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then," smirked Hermione in a superior tone. "They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!"

Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione, who opened her bag, took out her new Arithmancy book, and propped it open against the juice jug.

"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me." "

There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!" said Ron hotly.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," Hermione glared coldly.

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

He had touched a dangerous nerve. Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere. She was furious now, and she was right to be so.

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!"

She snatched up her bag and stalked away.

Ron frowned after her. "What's she talking about?" he said to Harry.

"She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet." Frank scoffed down is food rapidly, eating and chewing quickly before following them out to Care of Magical Creatures that was taught by that half giant he still didn't trust. He, like Hermione, had good reasons to his beliefs. But on each side, there would always be someone that disagreed and pulled them away from ideas.

Why should he, though, let that get to himself?

* * *

**Do you guys want to read about Hazel's days at Hogwarts first hand or just have her tell Frank about it from his POV?**


	9. Frank and the Hippogriffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Care of Magical Creatures Class of the year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully we can get through this part of the story where it's just inserting Frank into the things Queen J.K has already written.
> 
> This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!

 

_"She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet." Frank scoffed down his food rapidly, eating and chewing quickly before following them out to Care of Magical Creatures that was taught by that half giant he still didn't trust. He, like Hermione, had good reasons to his beliefs. But on each side, there would always be someone that disagree._

* * *

Frank still felt rather uncomfortable about heading to a class taught by a giant. Well, half-giant, to be fair. But when he'd fought real ones as a demigod, to consider anyone that had giant blood in them a good person? He hadn't met anybody like that yet, and he doubted he would at this crazy magical school.

As he walked down to his hut that bordered the edge of what he learned was the Forbidden Forest, he saw that he would be attending the class with the Slytherins. Draco was talking animatedly to a pair who must've been his friends, who were chortling.

Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with a large dog at his feet, looking impatient.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called as the class approached. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!"

Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" he called. "That's it - make sure yeh can see - now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books -"

"How?" Draco said in a cold, drawling way. Frank had to admit, the difference between this Draco and the one he had met in the Room of Requirement was impressive, to say the least. He'd have to ask him about that when they met up again later that night.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?" Draco repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Harry, Frank noticed, had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.

"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads.

"Yeh've got ter stroke 'em," said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Look -"

He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the tape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.

"Oh, how silly we've all been!" Draco sneered. "We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!"

"I - I thought they were funny," Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione.

"Oh, tremendously funny!" said Draco. "Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Frank would also have to ask why Harry almost seemed protective of their teacher.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, "so - so you've got yer books an' - an' - - now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an' get 'em. Hang on... "

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," said Draco loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father would have a fit when I tell him-"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry repeated.

"Careful, Potter, there's a dementor behind you."

"Oooooooh!" squealed a Gryffindor girl, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen bizarre creatures. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

"Gee-up, there!" he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Frank could see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was, half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from the feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh wan' ter come a bit nearer -"

No one seemed to want to. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs are, they're proud," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

Draco and his two friends weren't listening. They were talking quietly, but loud enough so that Frank could faintly hear and assume that they were contriving a plan to best disrupt the lesson.

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt.

"Right - who wants ter go first?"

Most of the class backed farther away than before, the students reacting the same way. Frank could see that even the ostensibly brave Golden Trio looked nervous around the creatures. The hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.

"No one?" said Hagrid, with a supplicating look with suppressed disappointment.

"I'll do it," said Harry, breaking the silence.

There was an intake of breath from behind him. Two girls- Frank remembered them from Divination- had whispered, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!"

Harry either didn't notice them or was determined to ignore them and climbed over the paddock fence.

"Good man, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Right then - let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He easily untied one of the chains and pulled the gray hippogriff away from its fellows. Slipping off its leather collar, the rest of the class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding their breaths, anxious. Draco's eyes were narrowed maliciously, a faint smirk playing on his lips in the shadows of the day.

"Easy now, Harry," said Hagrid quietly. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink... Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

Frank watched anxiously as Harry interacted with the gray hippogriff curiously. He could not help but let his mind wander as he thought what it would be to transform into one of the creatures, and how long he could sustain it. He was brought back to reality when the students around him applauded and praised Harry for the amusing performance. Everyone besides Draco and his friends, that is. Apparently, hippogriff had accepted Harry after a tense moment.

"Righ' then, Harry," called Hagrid. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him!" Frank suppressed an urge to snort. If any of the wizards learned of his powers, he wondered if they'd be asking him if they could ride him.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," said Hagrid, "and mind yeh, don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that..."

Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeaks wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up.

"Go on, then'" roared Hagrid, slapping the hippogriffs hindquarters excitedly.

Without warning, large twelve-foot wings of one's nightmares flapped open on either side of Harry, he barely had time to seize the hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward up and up the sky.

Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground, landing softly.

"Good work, Harry!" roared Hagrid. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees.

Draco and his friends had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Draco, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.

"This is very easy," Draco drawled loudly, not very subtly, Frank might add. "I knew it must have been if Potter could do it... I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?" he spoke to the hippogriff. "Are you, you great ugly brute?"

It happened in a flash of steely talons; Draco let out a high pitched, feminine screech and in a matter of 38 seconds- Frank had counted- Hagrid was brutally wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained and fought to get at Draco, who lay coiled in a heap in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes. "I'm dying!" Draco screeched as the class spread panic.

"I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!" He exaggerated as he called, though Frank doubted that calling the beast and insulting it was an accident.

"Yer not dyin'!" said Hagrid, who had gone very white. "Someone help me - gotta get him outta here -"

Hermione sprinted over to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Draco easily. As they passed, Frank remarked a long, deep gash on Malfoy's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle. Even though it was scripted, he had to admit the wound was rather impressive considering he had brought it to himself. That did not excuse him from being a downright liar, however.

Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed by a short walk- though it felt rather lengthy. Slytherins roared furiously and mercilessly of Hagrid- hurling sickening and repugnant insults shamelessly to Gryffindors as well. "They should fire him straight away!" sobbed a girl who was never very far from Draco, who was undoubtedly in tears

"It was Malfoy's fault!" snapped Gryffindor, defending Hagrid. Draco's two great brutes of friends flexed their muscles- that they thought looked menacing and intimidating.

They all ascended and crawled up the stone steps in exhaustion into the deserted entrance hall.

"I'm going to see if he's okay!" declared the Slytherin girl from before. They all watched her sprint and prance up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower. Together, Frank and Seamus silently went up to the Room of Requirement to finally meet up with Hazel and Luna.


	10. Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hazel's first day at Hogwarts, kind of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations again to Aithne, I hope I’ve written her to your satisfaction.
> 
> Long AN at end of chapter. It’s kind of important? It talks about sequel stuff, sort of. Also, all the information about what is being done in the classes without Harry is being pulled from the Harry Potter wiki, which has everything from the yearly curriculums, to the schedules of when the classes take place. However, for class times, I can only assume this is for Gryffindor, because that’s all we see really, so I’ve improvised bit.
> 
> This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!

 

_ She was dressed in her full uniform (shoes, tie, everything), and her roommates would be surprised to say the least when they saw the foreign exchange student from the night before in their room the following morning. _

* * *

 

The first thing Hazel noticed as she was woken up was a soft hand gently nudging her. The second thing she noticed was a few beams of sunlight that had managed to get past the curtains surrounding her four poster bed. She sat up and saw a girl that she couldn’t help but compare to Piper. They both had the same hair and skin. This girl, however, had dark brown eyes opposed to Piper’s multicolored ones, and seemed a good bit shorter. “Good morning,” the girl said quietly.

“Good morning,” Hazel yawned. “Would you happen to know what time it is?”

The girl shook her head. “Would you want to go to breakfast?” Hazel nodded when she felt a gnawing in her stomach. “I’ll let you get ready then.” She started to walk towards the door of their dorm. 

“What’s your name?” Hazel asked as she continued watching the stranger.

“Emerson Harper. Though my friends call me Emmy.” With that, she disappeared, most likely to the Great Hall. 

* * *

 

After a quick shower and changing into some fresh robes, Hazel made her way out to the common room, where she saw Emerson sitting in one of the lumpy armchairs reading. “You waited for me?”

She looked up. “Of course I did. What if you didn’t remember where the Great Hall was? Then you would’ve been lost in the castle on your first day. I can tell you from experience that it isn’t very fun.” Hazel gave the girl and genuine thankful smile. She’d fit in here just fine. “Sorry, I tend to ramble sometimes. Are you ready?” Hazel nodded and allowed Emerson to lead her through the castle.

They made their way to the Hufflepuff table and sat down before eating. Even though some things were delicious, she found many of the options to be rather bland. Living in places such as Louisiana, Alaska, and the Argo II for a time, allowed her to become accustomed to several different types of food. ‘Perhaps I’ll be able to grab something from the kitchen,’ she thought as she watched a woman walk down the table handing papers to her housemates.

‘Professor Sprout,’ her mind supplied. She would really have to thank Lady Hecate if- no, when she got back to Camp. As she looked down at the piece of parchment that was  handed to her, she saw that it was a schedule. After leaning over a bit, she saw that hers was identical to Emerson’s.

“Looks like we have Potions with the Ravenclaws first.” Emerson turned to look at a man at the table where the professor’s ate. His long black hair was greasy, his nose was hooked, and it looked as if a permanent scowl was fixed on his face. Her new friends must’ve noticed her staring. “That’s Professor Snape,” she explained. ‘Severus Snape’ “He’s the Potions Master here. Doesn’t like most, excluding his Slytherins. But we don’t have class with them today, so hopefully he won’t be too harsh.”

Hazel nodded and listened as she was told about their professor. Hecate, of course, had already informed her about the cruel man. Though with two different descriptions of the man, and time to momentarily observe him at breakfast, she still wasn’t too sure about what to expect from the potions class. She didn’t know when she and Emerson left the Great Hall, or when they navigated their way through the castle, or when they waited by the door for him along with the other students in the dungeons. All she could hope for was that she would be able to make the potions correctly, and that she could stay on his good side (if he even had one, which she honestly doubted) for as long as possible.

* * *

 

After Professor Snape had given a speech about his expectations for the class, (the same one he had given for the last two years, Emerson informer her,) they were instructed to brew a Sleeping Draught, something that had been taught in their second year, as a warm up. Again, Hazel already knew how to make one, but allowed Emerson to instruct her on the brewing as to not stand out. As much as it pained her to slow down the process of doing things at Hogwarts by pretending to be clueless, she had to blend in for the quest. She couldn’t have very well done that if she already knew practically everything about Hogwarts with barely being there for a day!

As they brewed, she discovered that Emerson was decent at brewing. At least, when the professor wasn’t looming over their shoulders, as if daring them to make a mistake so he could take away points. Thankfully, that didn’t happen to often. By the time the hour was done, they had created a Sleeping Draught that satisfied the both of them. Emerson put some in a vial for grading, then left the class.

* * *

 

Hazel smiled as she left the castle to attend their next class in the greenhouses. Even though she was a daughter of Pluto, those dungeons gave her bad feelings. Similar to when the first time she died, the earth felt constricting. But now, she was free, and was going to spend an hour with her Head of House, so she was extremely hopeful. Hazel’s wishes of having a decent class were answered. They were working with puffapods. A few times the beans from the plants fell, causing flowers to appear from them, which Hazel found to smell rather nice. Though whenever this happened, Professor Sprout would glare at the student who dropped them for a moment.

 

One hour later, Hazel and Emerson went down to the Great Hall. A good amount of the third year Gryffindors were already there, she noticed. She also noticed that Frank was deeply concentrating. She would have to remember to ask him about that when they met up in the Room of Requirement later that night. She then looked over to the reason they were on this quest in the first place. It seemed Harry was in the middle of a heated discussion between Ron and Hermione. She’d have to find out about that later too. She could no longer look at them, so she sat down across from Emerson and tuned back into what she was talking about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so excluding basic ideas I want to incorporate, I don’t really have the best record with plain out my plots and how they’ll develop. That said, I’m surprised we’re in the second part of a series now. I understand if you don’t like Fairy Tail and therefore didn’t read Hecate’s Realm, but if you did, let me know. I want to write something involving Team Natsu, but I need your guys feedback first. Should I finish Hecate’s Realm altogether (which will definitely go to OOTP), or just the part that takes place in POA before writing and posting the next part in The Gods’ Playground? Or would you want them to be posted at the same time? Please, let me know in reviews and PM’s. Okay, thanks, bye.


	11. The Chapter With No Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if you're looking at the title, and you're like, "Why would she title it like that? Is she being mysterious or something?" No. I'm not. I literally couldn't think of a decent title that described what would happen. It's kinda like Just Do Whatever from Fairy Tail. To this day, I still can't figure out how that relates to the episode. Whatever, I'm gonna stop rambling. Sorry.
> 
> This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!

****_ One hour later, Hazel and Emerson went down to the Great Hall. A good amount of the third year Gryffindors were already there, she noticed. She also noticed that Frank was deeply concentrating. She would have to remember to ask him about that when they met up in the Room of Requirement later that night. She then looked over to the reason they were on this quest in the first place. It seemed Harry was in the middle of a heated discussion between Ron and Hermione. She'd have to find out about that later too. She could no longer look at them, so she sat down across from Emerson and tuned back into what she was talking about. _

* * *

 

Hazel lied awake in her four poster bed the cogs in her mind whirring and humming. She had just returned to her dorm after a long hour of Muggle Studies. The way her day had being going, one could very easily assume that this class would be as easy as the rest had been. However, that person would be wrong.

 

Extremely wrong.

 

Apparently, when Hecate filled her in on an endless amount of information about Hogwarts and the Wizarding World into Hazel’s brain, she didn’t deem it necessary to include their understanding of the Muggle World. Now, for any other demigod, there wouldn’t be an issue. Muggles-- or mortals, perhaps, were simply normal people with normal, happy lives. They've experienced it, they envy it, they embrace it and don't think too much about it. 

 

But as far as Hazel knew, she was the only demigod that had been dead for nearly 70 years and came back to life. Because of that, she was as confused as a first-year. She was extremely thankful that people like Leo who made an effort and had to catch her up to the modern technology and human advancements since the 1940’s.

 

It was as grueling and fatiguing as any class could be. Though it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been; Emerson was there to help her whenever she felt lost-- which was quite often.

 

So she went on her first day in Hogwarts as if she was any normal student and acted like she was absolutely, completely comfortable with the unusual castle. She anticipated for the rest of her roommates to go to bed so she could meet up with the others in the Room of Requirement. 

 

The Daughter of Pluto snuck through the empty halls of Hogwarts, letting her mind wander. She hid in the wallowing shadows and stayed away from the magically lit torches. As a demigod who had battled against creatures, gods, titans, and literal forces of nature to name a few, she still had to confess that this quest was the weirdest and most peculiar ones that she had ever been on. Going to Alaska with her not yet boyfriend and a Son of Neptune-- no, Poseidon was one of the strangest ones. As was traveling across the Atlantic to literally defeat Earth which-- which was surprisingly evil was unusual as well. But this one took the cake. Being thrown into a brand new world, with no gods, it’s own powers, problems, and more importantly, culture was even more confusing than anything she's ever experienced. Even though she considered herself a witch, the people here were of a whole different caliber, and the people-- British witches and wizard saw this as absolutely normal. They didn’t bat an eye at the moving paintings, which were most likely following her as she trekked through the castle. They didn’t find it strange or surprising to have food conjured up from thin air in an instant, or climb on staircases that moved or even to share a space with ghosts!

 

She had made sure to steer crystal clear of them as much as she possibly could. Being a child of the god of death wouldn’t be doing any favors. If anything, they’d blow her cover. Hazel needed to be undercover for this task, and she wasn’t about to fail this for something that she was.  Which is exactly why any of them got too close for her liking, she either hid behind a textbook or struck up a conversation with Emerson to seem as if she was distracted and normal. She had managed to convince the other Hufflepuffs that she was completely terrified of the ghosts. Emerson, being the nice and compassionate person that she was, did everything in her power to keep Hazel away from the ghosts that wandered and floated in Hogwarts, something the demigod was thankful for.  

* * *

 

Before Hazel knew it, she was outside of the invisible door of the Room of Requirement. She passed in front of where she knew the door to be three times, and entered. The room appeared to be just like it had the last time she had been there. Frank and Luna were already there waiting; however, a certain platinum-blonde Slytherin was not. Hazel took a stride and walked over to her boyfriend when she noticed he was somewhat off.

 

“What’s wrong?” She inquired, worryingly.

 

“What?” he looked up and tried to suffocate his previou h, nothing.” He lied.

 

She folded her arms. “Frank.”

 

He sighed. “It’s just … something happened in Care of Magical Creatures. Draco-”

 

“What happened to Draco?” She interrupted. She couldn’t help but get nervous. The fact that her new friends was gone on the first real night at Hogwarts was troublesome to say the least.

 

“He’s in the Hospital Wing, but he’s fine.”

 

“Hospital Wing?” 

 

Frank nodded. “He got scratched by a hippogriff, but I saw the wound as he was carried away. It was bloody, but it wasn’t deep.”

 

“Then why isn’t he here if he’s really okay?”

 

“He insisted that it was going to kill him. But I doubt he’ll even get a scar.”

 

“So he’s okay?”

 

Frank nodded again. “Even if he’s acting like he isn’t. I was going to ask him why he was acting strangely but he’s not here.” Hazel relaxed a bit. She didn’t want to lose someone this early in the quest, even if she had only had one conversation with the Slytherin. 

 

“Can we go see him?”

 

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Luna said, speaking for the first time since they had all been in the Room of Requirement. She started walking towards the door, gently dragging them through the castle. 

 

Thankfully for the demigods, no one else was there besides Madam Pomfrey, so they could speak freely about what was happening. They opened the doors and walked over to Draco, who sat up when he saw them come in. He frowned internally, knowing he would have some explaining to do, especially when he saw Frank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next time.
> 
> Also, if you want to hmu on instagram (@fowlbynamedorkbynature) or tumblr (of the same name) and talk about literally anything, I’m always down.


	12. Draco Malfoy's Excuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably should’ve done this earlier, but sorry if anyone seems OOC.
> 
> This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!

_ Thankfully for the demigods, no one else was there besides Madam Pomfrey, so they could speak freely about what was happening. They opened the doors and walked over to Draco, who sat up when he saw them come in. He frowned internally, knowing he would have some explaining to do, especially when he saw Frank. _

* * *

 

Draco scanned the faces of his visitors. Hazel actually looked worried, bless her heart. Frank was harder to read. He suspected that the Son of Mars was confused. Irritated might’ve been a strong word, but it may have been called for. Luna, as usual, had a far off, dreamy look in her eyes. He could only assume that all clear-sighted mortals were like this; she was the only one he had ever met. He took a deep breath before breaking the silence. “Am I safe in assuming that you all came here for answers?” Both Frank and Hazel nodded. “Very well, then.”

“What happened in Care of Magical Creatures?” Frank asked, straight to the point.

“It’s … complicated.” When they continued to stare at him, waiting for more of an explanation, he continued. “I didn’t learn about your world until this summer. Before that, I was, well, I acted the way I did in class. And to avoid suspicion, I just kept doing it.” He paused for a moment to try and find the best way to continue.

Before he could say anything, Hazel interrupted him. “It’s okay, Draco. We understand.” Frank looked as if he was going to object, but remained quiet. “Just try to be yourself around us, okay?” The Slytherin nodded, thankful that she was being this understanding: something that usually didn’t happen with his housemates.

“I will.”

* * *

 

When Draco came back to classes half way through Potions, Frank could see that he was acting quite terribly. 

“How is it, Draco?” simpered Pansy Parkinson. “Does it hurt much?”

“Yeah,” Draco lied. The way he was going about, no one believes that he could be associated with anything as tough as the Romans. Even though that was the point of the whole thing, Frank still felt he went overboard. When Professor Snape barely gave him a tap on the wrist he internally cringed. Either he was blind, or he really didn’t care what happened, as long as they were Slytherin.

“Sir,” Draco called, “sir, I’ll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm-”

“Weasley, cut up Malfoy’s roots for him,” said Snape without looking up.

Ron became redder than his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with your arm,” he hissed at Draco. Draco smirked across the table.

“Weasley, you heard Professor Snape; cut up these roots.”

Ron seized his knife, pulled Draco’s roots toward him, and began to chop them roughly so that they were all different sizes.

“Professor,” Draco drawled, “Weasley’s mutilating my roots, sir.”

Snape approached their table, stared down his hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ron an unpleasant smile from beneath his long, greasy black hair.

“Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley.”

“But, sir - !”

Ron had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding his own roots into exactly equal pieces, Frank had noticed.

* * *

 

The more time he spent with the Potions Master, the more he disliked him. He wouldn’t say loathed yet, but they were certainly getting there.

_ “Now,”  _ the professor ordered. Frank tuned him out for the rest of the class. If he hadn’t, he might not have been able to control himself and try to punch him. However, no matter how awful and unfair the professor may have been, his spirits were lifted somewhat when Neville’s toad, Trevor, ended up shrinking to a tadpole after being force-fed a potion by the greasy professr. There was no doubt that Hermione helped him, and they still lost 5 points, but Frank chose to see the bright side when he could.

Professor Lupin wasn’t present when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Everyone sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were chatting when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher’s desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals and a couple baths.

“Good afternoon,” he said cheerfully. “Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands.” The class slowly put away their books skeptically. From their expressions, Frank assumed that they didn’t get practical lessons very often. They doubted the teacher, and Professor Lupin  “Right then,” said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. “If you’d follow me.” He directed the class out of the classroom through the castle. The curious class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was a poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with gum. It didn’t look up until the professor was standing right in front of him.

“Loony, loopy Lupin,” Peeves sang, smirking. “Loony, loopy Lupin, Loony, loopy Lupin-” The witches and wizards looked towards Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

“I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves,” he said pleasantly. “Mr. Filch won’t be able to get into his brooms.”

Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin’s words, except to blow a loud, wet raspberry. Professor Lupin gave a small, exasperated sigh and took out his wand.

“This is a useful little spell,” he told the class over his shoulder. “Please watch closely.” He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, “ _ Waddiwasi _ !” and pointed it at Peeves. With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves’ left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

“Cool, sir!” a dark skinned boy said in amazement and admiration.

“Thank you, Dean,” said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. “Shall we proceed?” They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door. “Inside, please,” said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back. The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. 

Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, “Leave it open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.” He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway, he turned on his heel and said, “Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

Neville went scarlet. Frank saw Harry glaring at Snape, and could feel the waves of hatred roll off him. In response, Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows. “I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation,” he said, “and I am sure he will perform it admirably.” Neville’s face went, if possible, even redder. Snape’s lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap. 

 

“Now, then,” said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. “Nothing to worry about,” Professor Lupin assured  calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. “There’s a boggart in there.” Professor Lupin smirked cheekily, enjoying the mix of gasps and murmurs of confusion. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there’s something I’ve noticed when reading other fics. Sometimes the authors are like “This chapter was only 10 pages, sorry it’s so short” while mine barely push 5. So I’m going to try and write and post more. Side note for y’all: reviews and favorites and everything like that really does motivate me to do more. Even if it’s something as simple as “Nice”, that’s literally all I want. Okay, sorry this was kinda long. Bye.


	13. Boggarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been beta'd by the amazing xx ShamiksXa xx, so go check her out!

_ “Now, then,” said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. “Nothing to worry about,” Professor Lupin assured  calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. “There’s a boggart in there.” Professor Lupin smirked cheekily, enjoying the mix of gasps and murmurs of confusion. _

* * *

 

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively. Frank didn’t know what a boggart was, but by gauging the reactions of the other students and his fellow demigod, he felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. He also wondered what kind of creature that inspired this kind of fear could be allowed to be shown to a room of 13-year-olds. 

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces,” said Professor Lupin. “Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks; I’ve even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?”

Hermione put up her hand. “It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.” She talked as if reciting lines from a textbook, a little like how Annabeth would talk, especially when explaining things to Percy.

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Professor Lupin, and Hermione glowed, just like how Percy would when he understood whatever his girlfriend was talking about. “So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

“This means,” said Professor Lupin, choosing to ignore Neville’s small sputter of terror, “that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

The boy in question took a moment before answering. “Er, because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?”

“Precisely,” said Professor Lupin, and Hermione put her hand down, looking a little disappointed.

‘Oh yeah,’ Frank thought, ‘if Hermione ever discovered the children of Minerva, no, Athena, they’d be inseparable.’

“It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. “The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires the force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please . . . riddikulus!”

“Riddikulus!” the class chanted together.

“Good,” Professor Lupin smiled. “Very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville.” The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were headed for a firing squad. “Right, Neville,” said Professor Lupin. “First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?” Neville’s lips moved, but no noise came out. “Didn’t catch that, Neville, sorry,” said Professor Lupin cheerfully. 

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, “Professor Snape.” Frank couldn’t blame him. Were he not a demigod, facing monsters and terrible creatures for as long as he could remember, the greasy professor might’ve scared him too.

Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful. “Professor Snape . . . hmmm . . . Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?”

“Er - yes,” said Neville nervously. “But - I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either.”

“No, no, you misunderstand me,” said Professor Lupin, now smiling. “I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?”

Neville looked startled, but said, “Well . . . always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress . . . green, normally . . . and sometimes a fox-fur scarf.” 

 

“And a handbag?” prompted Professor Lupin. 

 

“A big red one,” said Neville. During the exchange, Frank couldn’t help but wonder how the haggard professor would know how Neville’s grandmother would dress.

“Right then,” said Professor Lupin. “Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind’s eye?” 

“Yes,” said Neville uncertainly.

“When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape,” said Lupin. “And you will raise your wand, thus, and cry ‘Riddikulus’, and concentrate hard on your grandmother’s clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag.”

The class erupted into laughter, which only made the wardrobe wobble more violently.

“If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn,” said Professor Lupin. “I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical. . . .” The room went quiet. As the rest of the class tried to figure out their greatest fear, Frank was a little worried, to say the least. What if when the boggart came in, it turned into something terrible, like a Titan, or maybe even Gaea herself!

“Everyone ready?” said Professor Lupin. Frank was sure nobody in the room was.

“Neville, we’re going to back away,” Professor Lupin told the nervous Gryffindor. “Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward. . . . Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot.” The class retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready. “On the count of three, Neville,” said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. “One, two, three, now!”

 

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville. Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes. “R-r-riddikulus!” squeaked Neville.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag. Laughter echoed throughout the classroom at seeing Snape dressed like an old lady. The boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, “Parvati! Forward!” The dark skinned girl from Divination walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising.

“Riddikulus!” cried Parvati. A bandage unraveled at the mummy’s feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

“Seamus!” roared Professor Lupin. The son of Vulcan darted past Parvati with a speed that only came with years of training. Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face, a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek.

“Riddikulus!” shouted Seamus. The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone. Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then - crack! - became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before - crack! - becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

“It’s confused!” shouted Lupin. “We’re getting there! Dean!” Dean hurried forward. Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

“Riddikulus!” yelled Dean. There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

“Excellent! Ron, you next!” Ron leaped forward. Crack! Several of the students screamed when Ron’s boggart took shape. 

A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. Frank thought Ron had frozen. Then, “Riddikulus!” bellowed Ron, and the spider’s legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way.

“Frank, now!” Lupin yelled, encouraging the son of Mars to face the boggart next. He went to the spot where Ron previously was and tried to stay calm as he watched the boggart transform. It elongated into a humanoid body, then became shorter.The first identifiable features were elfish ears, curly brown hair, and a faint smell of sulfur. Frank’s eyes widened once he recognized the figure.

“Leo?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Golly that cliffhanger was fun to plan.


	14. Leo the Boggart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been beta'd by my friend Kasey while my usual beta reader is in China, so send her good vibes I guess?

_ “Frank, now!” Lupin yelled, encouraging the son of Mars to face the boggart next. He went to the spot where Ron previously was and tried to stay calm as he watched the boggart transform. It elongated into a humanoid body, then became shorter. The first identifiable features were elfish ears, curly brown hair, and a faint smell of sulfur. Frank’s eyes widened once he recognised the figure. _

 

_ “Leo?!” _

* * *

 

The boggart smirked as his body began to combust. A few of the students behind him screamed at the sight. Frank subconsciously shifted into a better battle stance. This all happened within a few seconds as the room descended into chaos. Almost everyone inched their way to the back of the room, except for Frank, Seamus, Professor Lupin, and the Golden Trio.  

 

Leo the boggart started to speak, drawing everyone’s attention. “ _ She doesn’t belong here. Not with you.” _ His hand began to glow brighter, hotter, and through his fingers, Frank could see his life stick, burning to ash.

 

“You’re wrong,” Frank countered. In that moment he wished more than anything that he could have his bow and arrow instead of some wand. ‘My wand!’ When he raised it, the boggart spoke again.

 

_ “All of you should be  _ rotting  _ in the Fields of-” _ Frank interrupted him with a strong “ _ Riddikulus _ !”, transforming Leo into a tiny bulldog.

 

It rolled over and over and it came to a halt at Harry’s feet. He raised his wand, ready, but-

 

“Here!” shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward.

 

Crack!

 

The bulldog had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, “Riddikulus!” almost lazily.

 

Crack!

 

“Forward, Neville, and finish him off!” said Lupin as the boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined.

 

“Riddikulus!” he shouted, and they had a split second’s view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great “Ha!” of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

 

“Excellent!” cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. “Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. . . . Let me see . . . five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart, ten for Neville because he did it twice . . . and five each to Hermione and Harry.”

 

“But I didn’t do anything,” said Harry.

 

“You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry,” Lupin said lightly. “Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me . . . to be handed in on Monday. That will be all.”

 

The class left the staffroom, talking excitedly. However, no one seemed to notice how Professor Lupin had stopped Harry from seeing his boggart.

 

“Did you see me take that banshee?” shouted Seamus.

 

“And the hand!” said Dean, waving his own around.

 

“And Snape in that hat!”

 

“And my mummy!”

 

“I wonder why Professor Lupin’s frightened of crystal balls?” said Lavender thoughtfully.

 

“That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we’ve ever had, wasn’t it?” Frank heard Ron say excitedly as the class made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

 

“He seems like a very good teacher,” said Hermione approvingly. The Son of Mars thought back to Seamus telling him about their other two DADA teachers so far, and how none of them had been very good so far. “But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart.”

 

“What would it have been for you?” said Ron, sniggering. “A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?” 

 

‘Yup,’ Frank thought. ‘She’d get along swimmingly with Annabeth.’

* * *

 

_ They opened the doors and walked over to Draco, who sat up when he saw them come in. He frowned internally, knowing he would have some explaining to do, especially when he saw Frank’s face as he entered. _

* * *

 

Hazel was studying in the library when Emerson approached her. “Mind if I join you?” she asked quietly.

 

“Not at all.” Emerson sat next to her and pulled out a book. She studied for a few minutes before turning to the daughter of Pluto.

 

“Hazel?” she whispered.

 

“Yes?” she whispered back in a similar tone.

 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“In class with Professor Lupin. Who was your boggart?”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”   
  


“Why not?”

 

“She’s gone.”

 

“Gone? Like gone? Or gone gone.”

 

“Gone gone,” Hazel answered after a moment.

 

“Well she was wrong, you know.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You’re not cursed, no matter what anyone says.” Hazel nodded even though she knew she was. “And she can’t get to you at Hogwarts.”

 

“Thank you Emmy.” Her roommate seemed satisfied with their conversation, and resumed reading. 

 

The following silence gave Hazel the chance to wonder; was she free from her mother at Hogwarts? Sure, she hadn’t seen her yet, and it had become harder for things to escape back to the mortal world after she and the rest of the Seven defeated Gaea. But then again, she was living proof that escape wasn’t impossible. ‘Next time I send an Iris message to the Camps, I’ll ask Nico about ghosts from the Fields of Asphodel,’ she decided. Surely her half brother would know more about ghosts. He raised them on the regular, after all. Gods, she could only imagine what he’d do if he ever saw Hogwarts. He’d probably be torn between sending them back to the Underworld and figuring out if they liked Happy Meals. The thought brought a smile to her face, helping banish the memory of the boggart taking the form of her mother from the front of her mind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter paired with a mini hiatus. School started and prepping for my first Comic Con took a lot of time and energy. The next chapter will come out sooner than this one did, scout’s honor.


	15. Halloween

" _He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. The Son of Mars thought back to Seamus telling him about their other two DADA teachers so far, and how none of them had been very good so far. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the boggart."_

" _What would it have been for you?" said Ron, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"_

' _Yup,' Frank thought. 'She'd get along swimmingly with Annabeth.'_

* * *

Life at Hogwarts was becoming average, Frank thought. Well, as average as a school full of wizards, ghosts, and magic could be. By demigod standards, life had almost become rather dull. But things never tended to stay mundane for long with the lifestyle he was thrust into; things really began getting hectic on Halloween. There had been a trip to Hogsmeade for third years and up, but he and Hazel had stayed at the castle. They had no mortal parents to sign the permission slips, and Harry wasn't going, so there really wasn't any point in it.

In reaction to the festive season, the Great Hall had gained some spooky decorations; there were hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling which reflected the sky outside. Staring up at it, he couldn't help but think of his ex-praetor Jason, and if he'd want something similar in his cabin at Camp Half-Blood.

Once the feast which seemed more extravagant as usual ended, the ghosts that took up permanent residence at Hogwarts started doing formation gliding. Nearly Headless Nick, Gryffindor's ghost, started reenacting what Frank could only assume was his death. He was so caught up in the festivities that he didn't even hear Draco sending insults towards the Golden Trio.

* * *

Frank along with the rest of his house mates followed the usual path up to Gryffindor Tower, but when he reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, it was jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" he heard Ron ask curiously. When Frank got on his toes to try and see above the crowd, the portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," one of the prefects demanded as he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I'm Head Boy-" A silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard the prefect say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick." People's heads turned.

"What's going on?" A girl Frank couldn't see asked, who had just arrived. A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and the Golden Trio moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Oh, my- " Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," Dumbledore said. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" a cackling voice said. It was the ghost that had been gumming the doors earlier, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore said calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?"

"Oh yes, Professorhead," Peeves said , with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

* * *

Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to the prefect from earlier, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts." Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…" One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy  
purple sleeping bags. "Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted the prefect. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to Harry and Hermione; they seized three sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner. Frank tried to follow them without seeming too suspicious

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," Ron said.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," Hermione said as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower…"

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," Ron said. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here." Hermione shuddered.

All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," a Ravenclaw said a few feet away, "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," a Hufflepuff fifth year said.

"He could've flown in," Dean suggested.

"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" Hermione asked crossly to Harry and Ron.

"Probably," Ron said. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," Hermione answered. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single  
entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered…"

"The lights are going out now!" The prefect shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!" The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet.

Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Frank watched him looking around for the prefect, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. He was only a short way away from the back corner of Gryffindors, who all pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" He asked in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her." The door of the hall creaked open again, and more footsteps followed.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape. All the students who were awake kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched…"

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" Snape asked.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next." Frank could see the prefect's face, rapt with attention, and Snape's profile, which looked angry.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?" Snape said, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block the prefect out of the conversation.

"I do, Severus," Dumbledore said, and there was something like warning in his voice.

"It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," Dumbledore interrupted, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?"

"Oh yes," Dumbledore said coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster." The student looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left. Frank looked down at the Golden Trio. Ron and Hermione had their eyes open towards Harry, reflecting the starry ceiling.

"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally getting plot, as opposed to what feels like endless chapters of filler.


	16. The Aftermath

_ "Oh yes," Dumbledore said coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster." The student looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left. Frank looked down at the Golden Trio. Ron and Hermione had their eyes open towards Harry, reflecting the starry ceiling. _

* * *

 

_ "What was all that about?" Ron mouthed. _

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class (and the previous evenings, according to Hazel) telling anyone who’d listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.   
  


The Fat Lady’s ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords,   
which he changed at least twice a day.   


“He’s a complete lunatic,” Seamus said angrily to Percy, the prefect that took charge on Halloween. “Can’t we get anyone else?”   


“None of the other pictures wanted the job,” Percy replied almost resignedly. “Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer.”   


The new portrait that guarded Gryffindor Tower was the least of Frank’s worries. Others were beginning to closely watch Harry just as he was. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him, and Percy was tailing him as often as he could. This made the demigod’s life extremely difficult. How was one supposed to follow somebody inconspicuously who was being guarded by a school’s staff? A staff, might Frank add, who knew more complex magic than he could ever hope to learn, and was already on edge towards suspicious characters due to Sirius Black escaping from what Frank could assume to be like a magical Alcatraz.

* * *

 

Harry dashed inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, presumably late from being help up by one of his many chaperones. “Sorry I’m late, Professor Lupin. I-.” But it wasn’t Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher’s desk; it was Snape.

 

“This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we’ll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down.” But Harry didn’t move.   


“Where’s Professor Lupin?” he said.   
  


“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,” Snape said with a twisted smile. “I believe I told you to sit down?” Harry stayed where he was.   


“What’s wrong with him?”   
  


Snape’s black eyes glittered. “Nothing life threatening,” he said, looking as though he wished it were. “Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty.” Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class. “As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-.”   
  


“Please, sir, we’ve done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows,”  Hermione interrupted quickly, “and we’re just about to start-.”    


“Be quiet,” Snape said coldly. “I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organization.”   


“He’s the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had,” Dean said boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.   


“You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you; I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss-” Frank watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn’t covered. “-werewolves,” Snape drawled.   


“But, sir,” Hermione said, seemingly unable to restrain herself, “we’re not supposed to do werewolves yet, we’re due to start Hinkypunks-.”   


“Miss Granger,” Snape said in a voice of deadly calm, “I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394.” He glanced around again. “All of you! Now!” With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books. “Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” Snape asked. Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did,had shot straight into the air. “Anyone?” Snape ignored Hermione, letting his twisted smile come back. “Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between-.”   


“We told you,” Parvati said suddenly, “we haven’t got as far as werewolves yet, we’re still on-.”   


“Silence!” Snape snarled. “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…”   
  


“Please, sir,” Hermione said, whose hand was still in the air, “the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf-.”   


“That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” Snape said coolly. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.” Hermione went very red, put down her hand, and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. 

 

From Frank’s short time at Hogwarts, he had seen all of his classmates glaring at Snape, even though a good number of them had called Hermione a know-it-all as well. Ron, who he’d seen call her that the most, nearly shouted, “You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don’t want to be told?” Everybody present knew instantly he’d gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.   


“Detention, Weasley,” Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron’s. “And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed.” No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin. “Very poorly explained… That is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia… Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn’t have given it three…” When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back. “You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention.”   


Frank stayed towards the back of the horde of students leaving the classroom so he could hear what Harry and Hermione, who waited in the hallways until they were well out of earshot, were saying. Once they believed the coast was clear, they burst into a furious tirade about Snape. “Snape’s never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job,” Harry said to Hermione. “Why’s he got it in for Lupin? D’you think this is all because of the Boggart?”   
  


“I don’t know,” Hermione said pensively. “But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon…” Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage. 

 

“D’you know what that-” (he called Snape something that made Hermione say “Ron!”) “-is making me do? I’ve got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!” He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. “Why couldn’t Black have hidden in Snape’s office, eh? He   
could have finished him off for us!”


	17. Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for that 2 month hiatus. I’m afraid today is the exception where stories are posted and updated, I’ll be disappearing for a short while again. There’s an explanation at the end of the chapter, if you’d care to read it.

_ “D’you know what that-” (he called Snape something that made Hermione say “Ron!”) “-is making me do? I’ve got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!” He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. “Why couldn’t Black have hidden in Snape’s office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!” _

* * *

 

Frank had always been a light sleeper. Sometimes, he wished he didn’t have to worry about random noises waking him up in the middle of the night, but tonight, he was thankful for it. This time, talking had been what pulled him out of sleep. As he became aware of the world around him, he could hear Harry talking to Crookshanks over the thunder rumbling outside. Curious, the son of Mars peeked through his curtains to see Harry dressed with his broom. Frank followed him after shifting into a fly. 

 

He watched Harry spend the rest of the night down in the common room by the fire. The only time he would move was to keep Crookshanks from entering the boy’s staircase again; other than that, he never strayed too far from the fire, seeming lost in thought. It didn’t take a genius to guess what he was contemplating, he was worried about the quidditch match that would take place later that day. Apparently, wizards here lost their minds over the aerial sport just like how he’d seen his fellow campers act about american football.

 

Once the two Gryffindors had been in somewhat of a one-sided standstill, Harry started on his way down to the Great Hall. Frank continued to watch him as both a literal and figurative fly on the wall, even as the rest of their shared house’s quidditch team accompanied Harry. It wasn’t until then that he decided to enter the Great Hall as a human, er, demigod . . . humanoid? As not an animal. After staying at breakfast for a reasonable amount of time, he made his way over to the Hufflepuff table to talk to Hazel before the match.

 

**“Good morning,”** she yawned.

 

**“Morning,”** Frank echoed. **“Were you able to find out anything else interesting?”**

 

Hazel shook her head.  **“It seems people would rather talk about how hot our seeker is rather than an escapee from Azkaban roaming the halls.”** Frank could almost hear the irritation in her voice she was trying to keep away.

 

**“Well let’s just hope the don’t need to talk about anything else more life threatening.”**

 

**“Mmh,”** Hazel agreed before draining the last of her pumpkin juice. She then gathered her things and got up to leave the Great Hall with her boyfriend and brave the weather to see her fellow students play.

Once Hermione was seated, she looked around. It seemed like nearly the entire school had managed to fit themselves in the raised seating surrounding the quidditch pitch, despite the heavy rain and wind. Over that and the lightning, she didn’t notice the teams walk out onto the field, or even them ascending into the air until Madam Hooch’s whistle brought her back to attention. Her eyes followed the players dashing around the field, but the slowly wandered back into the crowd. They stopped on the exchange student Frank, who was watching the game intently. A shiver went down her spine, and she got the same feeling she did when she saw Snape chanting back in one of their first year’s games.

 

“Ron,” she whispered.

 

“What?” He asked, not taking his eye off of the players either. 

 

“Doesn’t something seem suspicious to you?”

 

“Can’t one game just be normal ‘Mione? Everything seems fine to me.” 

 

“I mean about him!” She pointed down at Frank, which caused Ron to glance down at him for a moment before letting the match capture his attention. 

 

“Not really, just seems like he’s enjoying the game like everyone else.” 

 

“But-,” Hermione was interrupted by a feeling of cold washed over her, something she hadn’t felt since the train ride to Hogwarts. She tore her eyes off of Frank and into the sky to see hundreds of dementors now swarming the pitch. They were all facing Harry, who was plummeting towards the ground far too quickly.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve just started a job recently and that’s made most other aspects of my life suffer from it, due to exhaustion and stress. School had probably been hurt the most and that’s only beginning to sort itself out again after a month of reorganization. Basically, what I’m trying to say is that I need to figure out what my life will end up being like, slowly incorporating everything back into my routine, such as writing and music. Once I’m able to sort myself out, this story will come back stronger than ever. There’s plans in motion to have this series go into Order of the Phoenix, have the rest of the Seven and other demigods get transported to alternate worlds like Solangelo and Frazel have. This is by no means abandoned, just paused. Thank you for understanding, and feel free to check out the other stories that will be posted tonight.


	18. Midnight Meeting

_ “But-,” Hermione was interrupted by a feeling of cold washed over her, something she hadn’t felt since the train ride to Hogwarts. She tore her eyes off of Frank and into the sky to see hundreds of dementors now swarming the pitch. They were all facing Harry, who was plummeting towards the ground far too quickly.  _

* * *

After his dealings with the dementors on the Quidditch pitch, Madam Pomfrey had confined Harry to the Hospital Wing for the rest of the weekend. A good amount of people had visited him, from Hagrid, who had brought him flowers that looked like cabbages, to his Quidditch team.  _ ‘I don’t blame you in the slightest,’ _ he could hear Wood say. He could also remember the sort of hollow voice his captain spoke in.

He had gotten a wide variety of visitors, but the one that surprised Harry the most was Frank Zhang, the exchange student he’d been sharing a room with. Even though he’d slept beside the boy for a good while now, he still knew nothing about him. He was one of the first boys to wake up, and one of the last to rest. He hung out with Seamus at most meals and classes, (he’d have to ask about that later). He often spoke a language that he couldn’t understand, and he was afraid of an elfish boy who was set aflame. None of which was able to tell him why he’d visit him in the Hospital Wing in the middle of the night.

“How’d you manage to sneak in here?” Harry started with a question on the simpler side. It was the closest thing to small talk he could think of. Besides, he genuinely was curious; not every student had an invisibility cloak or Hermione to avoid being detected by Filch and the likes.

“Stuck to the shadows a lot,” he responded honestly. What Harry didn’t know, is that he’d been doing so as a black cat, using the blessing from his father to avoid detection. Harry could only nod, unsure what to do or how to act around the practical stranger. “How are you feeling?” Frank continued the awkward conversation with a question of his own.

“Like I fell off my broom and had the life sucked out of me, but better, I guess.” Frank nodded, and Harry thought he could see relief flash across his face. “Why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” Frank asked, searching for clarification.

“Why visit me now? We never talk, despite the fact that we share classes, a house, and a room. Why the sudden interest.”

Frank was quiet for a moment as he thought of a way to respond. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

“People tell stories about you. They say how you’re a big hero, and how you’ve fought . . . Voldemort ever since you were a baby.” The pause in Frank’s monologue seemed less like him working up the courage to say You Know Who’s name, but more to remember what it actually was. “I’m not going to ask you to believe me, but back home, I think people do the same about me. I’m not going to presume that people back home talk about me as much as the Wizarding World talks about you. But still, we’re both more alike than we’d care to admit.”

“So as somebody who’s been in an infirmary countless times, I know how boring and long nights like these can be.” Harry was quiet as he listened to Frank conclude his monologue. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been in Hogwarts for more than a couple of months, but Harry was surprised that the foreign exchange student had used Voldemort’s name so soon and so freely. He also took note of how he said they were alike. The last person to insinuate that was Gilderoy Lockhart, who was still in St. Mungo’s after Ron’s wand had backfired on him back in the Chamber of Secrets. The last thing he thought about was Frank’s concluding sentiment. Time spent in the Hospital Wing seemed to drag on forever when you weren’t asleep or talking with a visitor. Maybe Frank was speaking from experience. Maybe.

He was about to respond when a light turned on. Madam Pomfrey. She must be getting up to check on how he was doing, and to most likely force more chocolate down his throat. Evidently, Frank had also noticed that they would no longer be alone. “I’ll see you back in the tower, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. The next thing he knew, Frank had disappeared behind one of the many curtains surrounding them. When Madam Pomfrey came in to see how he was doing, the other Gryffindor was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

 

Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had resumed Professor Lupin, the man apparently over what sickness had knocked him down. The students were all trying to speak at once, telling the man what Snape had them do. Professor Lupin, to everyone’s excitement except Hermione’s, cancelled what Snape had assigned. He then went on teaching an interesting lesson on Hinkypunk’s a lecture Frank only half payed attention to, not thinking the information to be vital.

Time seemed to fly by, and before anyone knew it, class was over, and Professor Lupin was excusing everybody. 

“Wait a moment, Harry,” Lupin called. “I’d like a word.” Harry doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk’s box with a cloth. Frank made sure to be the last student out so he could stay by the door and listen in once he shifter to a small undetectable animal. 

“I heard about the match,” said Lupin, “and I’m sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?”   


“No,” said Harry. “The tree smashed it to bits.” Lupin sighed. 

“They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.”   


“Did you hear about the Dementors too?” said Harry with difficulty.   


“Yes, I did. I don’t think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time . . . furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds . . . I suppose they were the reason you fell?”

“Yes,” said Harry. He hesitated for a moment, before speaking up again. “Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just-?”   


“It has nothing to do with weakness,” said Professor Lupin sharply. “The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don’t have. Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can’t see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself: soul-less and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of.”   


“When they get near me,” Harry paused again, “I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum.” There was a moment’s silence, then, “Why did they have to come to the match?” said Harry bitterly. 

“They’re getting hungry,” said Lupin coolly. “Dumbledore won’t let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up . . . I don’t think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement . . . emotions running high . . . it was their idea of a feast.”   


“Azkaban must be terrible,” Harry muttered.

“The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.”

“But Sirius Black escaped from them,” Harry said slowly. “He got away . . .” 

Frank heard something fall down to the ground, probable a briefcase or maybe a textbook; “Yes,” Lupin said, “Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn’t have believed it possible . . . Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long . . .”   


“You made that Dementor on the train back off,” said Harry suddenly.   


“There are . . . certain defenses one can use,” said Lupin. “But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist.”   


“What defenses?” said Harry at once. “Can you teach me?”   


“I don’t pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry, quite the contrary . . .”   


“But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them!”

Lupin was silent again for a time, probably analyzing Harry. “Well . . . all right. I’ll try and help. But it’ll have to wait until next term, I’m afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? A new chapter that’s actually over 1k words??? I know, I’m shocked too.
> 
> Anywho, hit me up on instagram @fowlbynamedorkbynature if you just wanna talk, or maybe see when stories get created or updated, and stuff like that.


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